"It'll be fine."


Two months into my pregnancy, four days before the zombies, ten seconds before he died. That was the last thing he said to me. It wasn't that I didn't believe him then; I certainly did. He was still with me, and the world had not gone to hell yet, so why shouldn't I have? But as I thought about it, his last words were a lie. The fact that during the next moment there was a bloody red appearing on his white printed t-shirt and his breathing becoming more ragged didn't help either.

So many people died in the next weeks that on the whole, his was insignificant, but the way he died was important to me. It wasn't the zombies that got him in the end-he died before that final battle-it was only a man that killed Logan, and then I didn't have him to help me.

Sometimes when people almost die, they say their whole life flashes before their eyes. How I wish this were true for me. Perhaps if that happened I would've experienced my happy childhood again and not the terror of the past year. I would not expect such luck from fate though. It had been so cruel thus far, why pity a teenaged girl now? Pain flows through my veins, so maybe even my most horrible memories would be better than staying in the present.

I have never been seen for my talents. It was as simple as that-everyone was good, if not amazing, at something or another. The only thing was, whoever had a talent for math, reading, or language would be regarded as less than someone who was beautiful, charming, or good at sports.

One set of talents would obviously get someone further in the real world, but high school was a different story. I had talents that belonged to both categories-I was able to get a boyfriend, but I was still not part of the populars. It was obvious that those thrust out of the top clustered together at the bottom. Those were my friends. Of course, friends weren't much help to me once the truly bad things started happening.

I was pregnant in tenth grade. Things like that weren't incredibly unusual at a school like the one I went to, though they were still looked down upon. The majority of the students would never have gone to college-myself included-even if life had just continued without disaster, so what did it matter to us if we had children a year or two sooner? It seemed trivial worrying about small problems like school now. I did get stares and odd looks when I walked through the halls, but luckily I only needed to deal with it for about two months before school was no longer an issue.

But was it really luck? Well, all I remember for sure was that exactly seven days before the zombies came, my boyfriend told me that we would be together forever.

The following week was nearly identical to the one before it, and before that. Except for the emergency report on Friday. Sitting on my couch next to Logan, I hadn't been able to take the warning about a genetic warfare attempt seriously. Reporters told people later that we would not have been able to do anything to help ourselves, even if we had believed them. All I remember of the announcement was a man in a suit warning against sluggish, slow-moving people who seemed unable to speak clearly. We laughed it off and cuddled closer, taking it for a prank.

Many others across the country saw it the same way. It was called a "Zombie War of the Worlds" for eight more days before the government began to get the word to be taken seriously by the majority. It turned out that the people who took it as a joke were not the ones posing a threat, though. The ones who thought it was real were.

About half a week before the official notice of the threat was sent out, a group of my friends were hanging out with a group of kids outside a bar. Each of us had a fake ID and only a few looked at all nervous about what we were going to try. I had been into a bar and had a few drinks before, but there were close to seven of us. My boyfriend had been trying to convince me into joining in on the trip for a few days, but I was still unsure about it. He leaned into my ear and whispered the last words he would ever say, "What, all those zombies going to come for us if we go in? It'll be fine."

I giggled as he lurched like a cliché zombie from a movie across the parking lot toward our friends, a few of who screamed exaggeratedly. The other teens' laughter rang out also, until we all heard the shot. Some friends of mine had gone shooting once and had described the sound as though it physically split the air in two. I honestly didn't believe them until that moment. Seeing his smile flicker, his body collapse, and the light in his eyes die as I tried to reach him was more horrible than any of the things I've seen since. We called an ambulance but it was too late, and of course they never found the shooter. That was when my own world ended, but at least the world itself wasn't gone yet, literally, as it soon would be.

Another painful part of all this was the funeral. The thing about it was that everyone came to the ceremony. Were I to plan my own funeral, I would only invite only my closest friends and relatives. But there they were, practically everyone in the town. All I wanted was to talk to someone who really knew him, to say how much I missed him, to have comfort from someone who felt his loss as I did. But they weren't there.

I haven't been to school since that Friday when we saw the news together. By the time I was ready to go back, panic had set into the country and school was closed for good.

Even after the announcements of zombies had been confirmed by state officials, people remained unbelievably calm. It wasn't until the first sightings that it hit everyone just how real it all was. To me, what was most confusing was the confusion itself-no one, not even the government- knew exactly what these creatures were. The only thing we knew for certain was they would tear you apart if given the chance, they would eat you, and everyone called them the zombies. It may have been a virus, and it must have been contagious, because soon there were thousands of monsters roaming the streets, looking like they had just escaped from a child's nightmares.

I recall my parents not coming back from work one day, but that was when I was still grieving. I figured they were giving me my space. About two days later I finally understood they weren't coming back. The sudden realization that I had no one was almost more than I could take, but I was out of tears. For a while I considered not going at all, just staying to face the zombies at my house. I knew I wouldn't stand a chance that way, but I did not have much left to live for. My boyfriend, the love of my life, was dead, and it seemed that my mom and dad had gone the same way. Then I felt a little kick in my belly and remembered the only thing left I had to survive for, the only thing I had left of Logan: I had to save our baby.

I needed to act fast if I wanted to survive. Throwing cans of food into a bag, I didn't look at the labels, figuring whatever it was I would need. With two sets of clothes and a flashlight along with the food, I set out. Most of the zombies ignored me-I took pride in that I did well covering my tracks and blending in. The creatures were much more interested in the people who screamed, ran, and fought. So I walked.

I searched for shelter as I went, having no clue how to find a good place to hide out. Every night I made a small fire and ate a can of my dwindling food supply before getting as much sleep as possible and setting out the next day. I wouldn't have known how long I traveled for without knowing that that I started with twenty-three cans of food. I only ate one a day, though my stomach constantly cried for more. I didn't have much and I was growing so tired.

One night, I saw a cave out ahead of me; a nice empty nook. I would be alone there, but I would also be cut off from supplies. I had only five cans of food left, so I needed to make a choice. I could try my luck at another location, or I could brave or bluff my way into stealing from one of the supermarkets.

It wasn't my morals that made me dread an attempt to rob a store. Each door opened had the possibility of a zombie hiding on the other side, and I didn't have the means to fight. This could still be the case if I wound up at a different store, but I was weak. After scouting for a couple hours, I decided I would only become more weak waiting. Saying that I strutted into the door would make me sound very brave, but what actually happened was scared looks, tiptoeing, and crying once I got back outside.

I hadn't expected for there to be very much left after all of the locals had ransacked, but there was enough for me to stuff my bag, and fill my stomach, before sneaking back through the door. Possibly it was my imagination, but at the time I was sure there were scraping and growling sounds coming from further back in the supermarket. I did my best to just shovel the surprising amount of goods into my open bag. Perhaps the locals had not had the luck to survive long enough to resort to the stores. It didn't matter to me. All I cared about was the bag I held over my arm with all I needed inside of it. I gathered enough strength and supplies to make the trek out to the cave.

When I looked out from the town, the cave had seemed only an hour's walk away, so finding myself only halfway there after two hours was disappointing. I pressed on, but it was night when I arrived. I had eaten more earlier that day than I had in a week, so instead of setting a fire, I immediately lay down inside the mouth of the cave and drifted off.

Morning was very bright, and I was pleased to still be alone on the ground. I took the day as an opportunity to explore the cave, which didn't take long as it merely tunneled inward then split into two caverns. I set my bag in one of them and brought in some dry leaves. I piled them in the corner opposite my bag with some wood for a fire. There were cracks in the rocky wall to let out some of the smoke.

I was quite settled by the time dusk came-I was glad to be able to rest given how hard the pregnancy had been on my travel. The spark for my flame had just caught, and I was heating soup when I heard a loud pop. At first, I thought it was the fire. That was until I saw shadows leaping across the cave walls.

I should have thought through who it may have been, I should have seen them look at my bag, I should have seen that even if they were still a person, they might want to hurt me. There were so many things I could have done, but I didn't.

"Hello?" I called out into the darkness of my little cave, a sharp edge to my voice. "Who's there?'

Then I realized, as I looked at my completely unarmed hands, that I needed to sound friendlier, like less of a threat.

"I have a fire and some food if you want to come share." I winced as my voice broke due to my nervous fear.

I was beginning to think that maybe no one was truly there, and my mind was only playing tricks on me, when a woman emerged from the shadow. Her skin was rough and bleeding in some places, and there were dark bags under her eyes that made her look very tired, but she was still unmistakably human. I must have visibly relaxed at the sight of another person, and I know that I let my guard down the moment I saw she was not a zombie.

The scraggly woman let out a low laugh and mumbled, "Thought I was one of them, didn't you?"

My voice froze in my throat as I tried to reply, and all I could do was nod in response. She laughed again at my speechlessness, and told me she would get her remaining supplies to share. I merely nodded again as my new acquaintance shrank back into the black she had first emerged from. As I was waiting for her, I turned my body back away from the woman and towards my fire.

I had just calmed any earlier mistrust and alarm when my stomach exploded in a searing white-hot pain, caused by something hitting my back. I looked down and was unable to make sense of what I saw. Why was there something coming from my chest? There was a weird, shiny metal object protruding from my flesh, coated in my own sticky blood.

By the time I could think again, my supplies were gone, taken by the cruel woman with the knife. I waited, hoping maybe the feeling of pain that was stopping me from standing, or even moving, was temporary. I thought about all that had happened. Well, it was only the past year-the worst times of my life.

Why couldn't my whole life pass before my eyes? Why couldn't I relive my childhood? Why? I don't know.

I saw my boyfriend, I saw the child we could have had together, I heard the last words he ever said to me: the only lie he ever told to me. I wished that forever could have lasted just a bit longer.

And then I stopped thinking.